


Prince Thorin

by stephanieh



Series: Keep the Coat [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: AU where police justice is a thing, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempted Sexual Assault, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Thorin as Batman, anger management problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 21:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3149243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanieh/pseuds/stephanieh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bilbo is walking home late one night, he's attacked by a man in the dark. Little does Bilbo know he's not the one who's truly in danger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prince Thorin

**Author's Note:**

> TW: ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSULT

Bilbo was on his way home from Durin Hall when it happened. It was darker outside than he had expected- he must've lost track of time. Wind gusted through the commons and nearly blew him over and he stumbled, his steps making slapping noises against the concrete that cracked through the square.

The night was cold, but the wind was warm and humid. It closed around Bilbo like sweaty fingers where he paused, waiting for the wind to pass so he could hurry home.

He really shouldn't be out this late alone.

Before he had left for college his family had fussed over him, reminding him each and every day of the dangers of city life. "People aren't the same up there as they are in the Shire," his grandmother had worried in particular. "They're more desperate- and desperation is the beginning of all great tragedies."

Bilbo had scoffed at her fretting. After all, people are still people, city or Shire. It was only his grandma's small town sensibilities which lead her to her worry. He was no more likely to be attacked here than he was at home per capita.

But since he had come here, Bilbo had heard tales, and he had been warned not to come out late without escort. The security guards at the school would walk anyone anywhere if they were asked. He had acted foolishly by trying to walk home alone.

Bilbo wondered if it was too late to turn back when he heard a noise from the darkness beneath the tall oak tree in the center of the square.

"What's a sweet little thing like yourself doing out so late," an oily voice inquired from the shade. "Meeting someone, perhaps?"

Bilbo struggled to breath for a moment, trying to remember what he had read you should say in situations like these on one of those infographics on facebook once.

"I-I-I'm meeting someone," he squeaked. "He's expecting me, and… and- I must be on my way! Good evening!" He finished in rush. _Too friendly!_ a voice in his head chided.

"Aw, that's a shame," the voice cooed. This time it was accompanied by a bark of sharp laughter.

Fear pooled in Bilbo's gut. He made to walk away, quickly as his legs would carry him, not caring if he seemed safely nonchalant or not, just wanting to escape. 

But a body stepped out of the darkness, blocking his path. 

He backed up, only to find another person had closed in from behind who gripped his upper arms, holding him in place as he squirmed desperately, trying to escape.

The speaker crept closer, his long, gaunt face dipping close to Bilbo's as he said, "Are we scaring you, little one? I'm sorry… we'll try and make this as good for you as it will be for us." 

His pale hands came up to brush against Bilbo's abdomen and Bilbo kicked out, landing a hit on his attacker's shin but foot collided with something hard and he cried out. A shin guard- he realized hollowly, like soccer players wear.

Hands closed around his waist and squeezed, hard enough to bruise when Bilbo started to truly panic.

Suddenly, there was a cracking noise and the hands gripping his arms loosened. He nearly fell over from the lack of support before he realized the other man's hands were still closed like a vice on his hips. Bilbo twisted away desperately, only to find his efforts unnecessary when a tree branch came swinging from over his head, hitting his assailant on the side of the head with an identical crack.

Bilbo threw himself from the melee, unsteady feet betraying him and he landed hard on the sidewalk. He lay on the ground, shielding his eyes from the bright light of the streetlamp above him to regard his savior.

It was Thorin, of course. Bilbo almost laughed (hysteria must've been settling in)- Thorin really needed to stop coming to his rescue before people started to think of Bilbo as a fair maiden in distress. 

But, all things considered, at the moment he decided could live with the title as he watched his Prince Charming stand triumphantly over his attackers, oaken sword in hand.

Then, Thorin raised the branch again, and something in Bilbo's stomach soured.

"Thorin," he shouted. "Don't!"

Thorin stopped, but he didn't lower his weapon, merely gazed down at the man on the sidewalk with such hatred as Bilbo had never seen.

"Don't," Bilbo repeated, heaving himself off the walk and coming to stand between Thorin and his victim. "I'm okay," he assured him softly, holding his hands out in supplication. "Look, I'm fine."

"What have I told you about saying you're _fine_ when your not _fine_ ," Thorin spat. "These men attacked you. They are _sick_. They deserve…"

"What," Bilbo interrupted. "To die? By your hand? These men _are_ sick, but not in the way you seem to think. They deserve our pity, not our judgement. You've beaten them, there's no need to martyr yourself for the sake of justice."

Thorin stared at Bilbo beseechingly, arm still raised over his head, oak branch in hand. Bilbo stared back, determined not to let Thorin do anything he might regret.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Thorin lowered his arm, rage fading from his eyes and worry taking its place. "Bilbo," he questioned gently, dropping the branch at their feet. His hands brushed over Bilbo's sides, making his wince as they touched the bruised the man had left on him. Thorin's hands fluttered over him, at a loss for how to help or what to do now that the violence had passed.

"Let's call an ambulance," Bilbo told him, gesturing to the two on the ground.

"Right," Thorin said, pulling his phone out of his pocket as Bilbo leaned into his embrace, taking deep breaths of the familiar smell he could never quite place.

As Bilbo listened to Thorin talking to the 911 operator, he still couldn't quite believe he was here, that he had saved him. He took another deep, shuddering breath and Thorin's hand rubbed against his back gently, trying to comfort him and talk at the same time.

"… thank you." Thorin ended the call, shutting his phone and wrapping both arms gently around Bilbo as he started to cry.

He tried to keep his tears in, but the shock of it all caught up with him in the face of Thorin's comforting presence. He knew in the long run it was better to deal with it now rather than later- so he cried. He shuddered with the force of his sobs until Thorin's jacket was soaked through with tears and the ambulance had arrived. 

He laughed at himself a bit as they seated themselves on a stretcher, Thorin sitting beside him and holding his hand as he told the paramedics what happened. "I'm sorry, nothing actually happened to me, I dunno why I'm crying," he said wetly, and the paramedic smiled at him kindly.

"It's quite alright," she said. "Happens to everyone. Though," she continued in a lighter tone. "Not everyone has a valiant young man like this to rescue them."

Bilbo smiled, snuggling closer to Thorin as the paramedic went to load the two boys in the ambulance. They had been knocked out well and good, but they were sure to live. 

Bilbo was told a trip to the hospital was not necessary for him, though they did treat the scratches on his knees and hands, and examine his abdomen for any internal injury beyond bruising. Finding nothing, they prescribed him bed rest and some ice, for any possible swelling that may occur. Thorin received the directions from the medics like a soldier receiving orders, his back straight and his eyes attentive as they addressed him. 

One of the medics winked at Bilbo and pointed to Thorin and giving a thumbs up as they left. Bilbo blushed, trying to hide his giddy laughter.

The police informed them that there would be no further implications for them, but the two other boys would be charged with the most severe crimes possible. 

Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief and thanked everyone within earshot, twice, before Thorin guided him off towards their dormitories.

Bilbo was too sleepy to even notice Thorin skipping his floor on the elevator and instead pressing the button for his own. 

Thorin guided him gently into his own room, shaking his head seriously at Dwalin as they entered- his expression and Bilbo's dazed state forestalling any comment on the matter by him.

He lead Bilbo into the bedroom, to the bunk bed- not hesitating before, with the utmost care, sweeping the smaller man up into his arms and settling him into the top bunk.

Bilbo made a small sound of protest, grumbling at being treated like he couldn't have gotten up on his own. Thorin merely smiled indulgently and laid the blankets over him before pressing a gently kiss to his cheek.

"I'll be right back," Thorin told him softly, giving Bilbo's hand a squeeze before leaving the room. He turned off the light but left the door cracked, letting a little light seep in from the living room, where he and Dwalin were having a hushed conversation.

"Is the lad alright," Dwalin asked curiously- the concern in his voice was touching to Bilbo, who had always believed Thorin's roommate to be a boorish sort of fellow who didn't care for him in particular.

"He was attacked in the commons," Thorin growled, anger changing his voice to something Bilbo almost didn't recognize if it weren't for the touch of concern in it. There was the sound of footsteps, like someone pacing in the small room. "He was alone, and two men were..." he paused to take a shuddering breath. "But I stopped them."

There was a sharp inhale, and Bilbo was surprised to note it was Dwalin's. "Did you…" he near whispered, and Bilbo struggled to make out the rest of the conversation as they became even quieter.

"No," Thorin breathed. "No, I didn't."

There was a long pause.

"That's…" Dwalin started, only to stop. "He was able to stop you?"

Thorin's pacing stopped.

"That's…." Dwalin started again. 

"I know," Thorin replied, his voice deep- some implacable emotion in his tone.

Bilbo breathed out, wondering at it all. He didn't know what to make of the conversation, or of what happened in the commons. He just wanted to sleep.

A few moments later the bed dipped as Thorin crawled in, pulling Bilbo against him gently. Bilbo precluded any notion that he was asleep by twisting to face Thorin and pulling up the covers, inviting him under.

Thorin's arms settled protectively around his hips and his big hand rubbed gently up and down his spine.

"Thorin," Bilbo said softly after a few moments.

"Hm," Thorin questioned, pulling Bilbo more snugly against his front.

"Thank you."

There was a moment of silence as Thorin's hands paused in their ministrations. 

"Thank _you_ , Bilbo," his voice positively rumbled, with such an emotion that Bilbo, if he were less modest, might call _wonder_.

"What ever for," Bilbo questioned sleepily. "I don't understand." There was a long silence in which Thorin barely seemed to so much as breathe.

"There are things about me that... you don't know," Thorin said finally, his words little more than a gust of air across Bilbo's cheek. 

Bilbo heard the strain of emotion in his voice and moved to comfort him, as Thorin had for him so many times before. "You needn't tell me anything tonight... we have time. All the time we need," Bilbo told him softly, reaching behind him to take one of Thorin's big hands in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Thorin squeezed back and Bilbo felt, rather than saw, Thorin's small smile against the side of his neck. 

"You make a lovely Prince Charming," Bilbo continued. "Coming to my rescue all the time. Prince Thorin. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"You're the one who keeps putting yourself in danger," Thorin grumbled, but Bilbo could hear he was still smiling.

"Oh, it's all for your image, my dear."

**Author's Note:**

> PSA: Infographics tell us that if you're ever addressed on the street by a suspicious character asking you something like 'how are you, miss', you should respond in the most neutral way possible, like 'good', and keep moving. If they persist, then you should tell them that someone is expecting you at your destination.


End file.
